THE MANAGEMENT OF SERVANTS.
"A good mistress makes a good servant."--_Proverb._
In England _materfamilias_ is always complaining of servant
difficulties. Those, however, who have lived in some of our colonies
know that the very thought of an English servant conveys a certain
soothing sensation to feelings that have been harassed by the
servants--if we may so name such tyrants--in these places. A friend of
mine in Bermuda wished to hire a nurse. One day, as she was sitting in
her verandah, a coloured person appeared before her and suggested,
laying great emphasis on the words in italics, "Are you the _woman_ that
wants a _lady_ to nurse your baby?"
The servants in this and some other parts of the world consider
themselves not merely equal but much superior to their employers, and
there is a consequent difficulty in managing them. If you show any
disinclination to their giving to friends much of the food with which
you had hoped to sustain your family, they will disappear from your
establishment without giving the slightest warning. A servant wishes to
keep one or two members of her family in your house. If you dare to
object, your widely-spread reputation for meanness will prevent any
other servant applying for your situation for months. In a word, the
employers of these helpful beings are every day reminded of the servant
who said to his master: "I don't wish to be unreasonable, but I want
three things, sir: more wages, less work, and I should like to have the
keys of the wine-cellar."
Though matters are not quite so bad at home, there are nevertheless many
much-tried masters and mistresses. Certainly some of them deserve to
suffer. They have not given the very least attention to the art of
managing servants. As parents spoil their children and wonder at the
results, so do these masters and mistresses their servants. At one time
they provoke them to anger about trifles, at other times they allow them
to do as they like. Now they treat them with extreme coldness, on other
occasions undue familiarity is permitted. In a word, they forget the
fact that there is a common human nature between the kitchen and the
parlour which must be admitted and well studied.
The ancient Romans, though they were heathen, and though with them
servants meant slaves, included in the idea of _familia_ their servants
as well as their children. So, too, it was once amongst ourselves.
Servants used to "enter the family," and share to some degree its joys
and cares, while they received from it a corresponding amount of
interest and sympathy. All this is changed. Servants are now
rolling-stones that gather no moss either for themselves or their
employers. They never dream of considering themselves members of the
family, to stick to it as it to them through all difficulties not
absolutely overwhelming. To them "master" is merely the man who pays,
and "missis" the woman who "worrits." They think that they should change
their employers as readily as their dresses, and never imagine that
there could be between themselves and them any common interest. Only the
other day I heard of a lady who had in one year as many as fourteen
cooks! How could this mistress be expected to take any interest in or to
consider herself responsible for the well-being of such birds of
passage?
And yet surely the heads of a household are nearly as responsible for
their servants as they are for their own children. We _are_ the keepers
of these our brothers and sisters, and are in a great measure guilty of
the vices we tempt them to commit. A lady was engaged in domestic
affairs, when some one rang the street-door bell, and the Roman Catholic
servant-girl was bidden to say that her mistress was not at home. She
answered, "Yes, ma'am, and when I confess to the priest, shall I confess
it as your sin or mine?"
It is an unquestioned fact that many of the faults of servants are due
to a want of due care on the part of their mistresses, who put up with
badly-done work and make dishonesty easy by leaving things about.
If we want really good servants we must make them ourselves; so even
from selfish motives we should do all we can to influence them for good.
But it is much easier to mar than to make, and with servants the
easiest way of doing this is to let them see that we are afraid of them.
People spoil their servants from fear oftener than from regard. Some are
afraid of the manner of their servants. They pass over many faults
because they do not like the sulky looks and impertinent reply with
which a rebuke is received.
Fifty years ago servants might be allowed to consider the warning of
masters as a poor attempt at wit, as the Scotch coachman evidently did
who, on being dismissed, replied, "Na, na; I drove ye to your
christening, and I'll drive ye yet to your burial;" and the cook who
answered in similar circumstances, "It's nae use ava gieing me warning;
gif ye dinna ken when ye hae gotten a gude servant, I ken when I hae a
gude master." As, however, servants are now seldom attached to a family
by old associations they look upon the withdrawal of notice as a sign of
weakness, and give themselves airs accordingly.
We should give our orders in a polite but firm manner, like one
accustomed to be obeyed. It sometimes simplifies matters considerably to
make a servant understand that she must either give in or go out. When
fault has to be found, let it be done sharply and once for all, but
nagging is dispiriting and intolerable. "Why do you desire to leave me?"
said a gentleman to his footman. "Because, to speak the truth, I cannot
bear your temper." "To be sure, I am passionate, but my passion is no
sooner on than it's off." "Yes," replied the servant, "but it's no
sooner off than it's on." Still we must never forget that the greatest
firmness is the greatest mercy. Here is an illustration. The Rev. H.
Lansdell tells us in his book "Through Siberia," that a Siberian friend
of his had a convict servant, whom he had sent away for drunkenness. The
man came back entreating that he might be reinstated, but his master
said, "No; I have warned you continually, and done everything I could to
keep you sober, but in vain." "Yes, sir," said the man; "but then, sir,
you should have given me a good thrashing." Many a servant girl has gone
to the bad because at some critical moment her mistress did not give her
a good tongue-thrashing.
It cannot spoil tried servants to ask their opinion and advice on
certain occasions, but we should not expect them to think for us
altogether. To do this makes them as conceited as the Irish servant who
replied to his master when that inferior being suggested his views as to
the way some work should be done, "Well, sir, you may know best, but I
know better!" Still, it is well to let servants know as often as we
conveniently can the reason of our commands. This gives them an interest
in their work, and proves to them that they are not considered mere
machines. Never let a mistress be afraid of insisting upon that respect
which her position demands. In turn she can point out that every rank in
life has its own peculiar dignity, and that no one is more worthy of
respect than a good servant. We should feel just as thankful to our
servants for serving us, as we expect them to be for the shelter and
care of the home which we offer them. There is a perfectly reciprocal
obligation, and the manner of the employer must recognize it. "Whereas
thy servant worketh truly, entreat him not evil, nor the hireling that
bestoweth himself wholly for thee. Let thy soul love a good servant, and
defraud him not of liberty." We have no right to every moment of a
servant's time, and he or she will work all the better for an occasional
holiday.
Those who feel that they are responsible for the character of their
servants will endeavour to provide them with innocent amusements. When
papers and books are read above stairs they might be sent down to the
kitchen. If this were done, literature of the "penny dreadful"
description would to a great extent be excluded.
Many employers behave as if the laws of good manners did not apply to
their dealings with servants. Apparently they consider that servants
should not be allowed any feelings. This was not the opinion of
Chesterfield, who observes: "I am more upon my guard as to my behaviour
to my servants, and to others who are called my inferiors, than I am
towards my equals, for fear of being suspected of that mean and
ungenerous sentiment of desiring to make others feel that difference
which fortune has, perhaps too undeservedly, made between us." It is
difficult, perhaps, to strike the exact mean between superciliousness
and excessive familiarity, but we must make every effort to arrive at
it. There is nothing more keenly appreciated by servants than that
evenness of temper which respects itself at the same time that it
respects others. A lady visited a dying servant who had lived with her
for thirty years. "How do you find yourself to-day, Mary?" said her
mistress, taking hold of the withered hand which was held out. "Is that
you, my darling mistress?" and a beam of joy overspread the old woman's
face. "O yes!" she added, looking up, "it is you, my kind, my _mannerly_
mistress!"
Part of Miss Harriet Martineau's ideal of happiness was to have young
servants whom she might train and attach to herself. In later life, when
settled in a house of her own, she was in the habit of calling her maids
in the evening and pointing out to them on the map the operations of the
Crimean war, for she thought that young English women should take an
intelligent interest in the doings of their country. Mrs. Carlyle was
another tender mother-mistress to her servants, though her letters have
made the world acquainted with the incessant contests which she was
obliged to wage with "mutinous maids of all work" as Carlyle used to
call them. "One of these maids was untidy, useless in all ways, but
'abounding in grace,' and in consequent censure of every one above or
below her, and of everything she couldn't understand. After a long
apostrophe one day, as she was bringing in dinner, Carlyle ended with,
'And this I can tell you, that if you don't carry the dishes straight,
so as not to spill the gravy, so far from being tolerated in heaven, you
won't be even tolerated on earth.'" It was better to teach the poor
creature even in this rough way than not at all, that she ought to put
her religion into the daily round and common tasks of her business; that
"A servant with this clause
Makes drudgery divine:
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws
Makes that and the action fine."
So much of the comfort of home depends upon servants that a wise
mistress studies them and values their co-operation.
"She heedeth well their ways,
Upon her tongue the law of kindness dwells,
With wisdom she dispenses blame or praise,
And ready sympathy her bosom swells."
She sees that their meals are regularly served, and that they are
undisturbed during the time set apart for them. She does not think that
any hole will do for a servant's bedroom. When caring for the children
that they may have their little entertainments and enjoyments to
brighten their lives, she includes the servants in the circle of her
sympathies; and is always on the watch to make them feel that they are
an integral part of the home, and that, if they have to work for it and
to bear its burden, they are not excluded from a real share in its
interests and joys. In a word, she feels for them and with them, and as
a rule they do their best for her. That servants are not always
ungrateful every good mistress is well aware. Among the inscriptions to
the early Christian martyrs found in the catacombs at Rome there is one
which proves that there were in those days, as no doubt there are now,
grateful servants. "Here lies Gordianus, deputy of Gaul, who was
murdered, with all his family, for the faith. They rest in peace. His
handmaid, Theophila, set up this." Gentle, loving Theophila! There was
no one left but thee to remember poor Gordianus, and perhaps his little
children, whom thou didst tend.
In managing servants a little judicious praise is a wonderful incentive.
The Duke of Wellington once requested the connoisseur whom the author of
"Tancred" terms "the finest judge in Europe," to provide him a _chef_.
Felix, whom the late Lord Seaford was reluctantly about to part with on
economical grounds, was recommended and received. Some months afterwards
his patron was dining with Lord Seaford, and before the first course was
half over he observed, "So I find you have got the duke's cook to dress
your dinner." "I have got Felix," replied Lord S., "but he is no longer
the duke's cook. The poor fellow came to me with tears in his eyes, and
begged me to take him back again, at reduced wages or no wages at all,
for he was determined not to remain at Apsley House. 'Has the duke been
finding fault?' said I. 'Oh no, my lord, I would stay if he had; he is
the kindest and most liberal of masters; but I serve him a dinner that
would make Ude or Francatelli burst with envy, and he says nothing; I go
out and leave him to dine on a dinner badly dressed by the cookmaid, and
he says nothing. Dat hurt my feelings, my lord.'"
On the vexed question of "visitors," mistresses might say to their
servants, "When we stay in a lady's house, we cannot ask visitors
without an invitation from our hostess, and we wish you to observe the
same courtesy towards us. When we think it advisable, we will tell you
to invite your friends, but we reserve to ourselves the right to issue
the invitation; and if your friends come to see you, we expect that you
shall ask our permission if you may receive them." A mistress who does
not forget the time when she used to meet her affianced thus writes. "I
always invite their confidence, and if I find any servants of my
household are respectably engaged to be married, I allow the young men
to come occasionally to the house, and perhaps on Christmas Day, or some
festival of the kind, invite them to dine in the kitchen, and I have
never yet found my trust misplaced. I should not like my own daughters
only to see their affianced husbands out of doors, and, though the
circumstances in the two cases differ materially, as a woman I consider
we ought to enter into the feelings of those other women who are serving
under us."
Half the domestic difficulties arise from a want of honesty among
mistresses in the characters which they give each other of the servants
they discharge. Many a servant receives flattering recommendations who
does not deserve any better than the following: "The bearer has been in
my house a year--minus eleven months. During this time she has shown
herself diligent--at the house door; frugal--in work; mindful--of
herself; prompt--in excuses; friendly--towards men; faithful--to her
lovers; and honest--when everything had vanished."
It is often advocated that training-schools should be established for
domestic servants, as a remedy to meet the domestic-servant difficulty.
But improvement must begin at the head. If we are to have
training-schools for domestic servants, the servants may very well say
that there ought to be a training-school for mistresses. To rule well is
even more difficult than to serve well.
The mistress then should learn how and when everything ought to be done,
so that in the first place she can instruct, and, in the second,
correct, if her orders be not carried out. If she does any of the
household work herself, let it be to save keeping a servant, not to help
those she has. The more you do in the way of help, the worse very often
you are served. Let your servants understand that you also have your
duties, and that your object in employing them is to enable you to carry
on your work in comfort. So much have young women been spoiled by this
system of auxiliary labour, that one cook who came to be engaged asked
who was to fill her kitchen scuttle, as she would not do it herself.
Mistresses must unite in the interest of the servants themselves, as
much as in their own, to put down this sort of thing, for the demands
have become so insolent, that, as a smart little maid once expressed it,
"They're all wanting places where the work is put out."